


Don't touch Katsudon

by livinglittlelie



Series: Posting this was a Bad Idea: a Guide by Me [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Because we all know that Yuuri is the mom and Viktor is Papa, Crack, Ep 9, Friendship, M/M, Rated teen because my Russian kitten has the mouth of a sailor, Yuri speaking in Russian, Yuuri-Yuri brotp because they give me life, after the Rostelecom cup but before he gets to Japan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-06
Updated: 2016-12-06
Packaged: 2018-09-06 22:15:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8771488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/livinglittlelie/pseuds/livinglittlelie
Summary: Yuuri had never thought that Yuri's brash words would come in handy one day.





	

**Author's Note:**

> The existance of this... thing is entirely Leisey's fault.

Yuuri sighed on his seat. He rested his forehead on the cold window, and watched the white scenery outside move, his thoughts elsewhere. After the disastrous fourth place he got at the Rostelecom cup, and almost not making it to the semi-finals, he felt drained. All his energy had been spent, and he only wished to arrive to Hasetsu already, with his family, his friends and Viktor.

Oh, god, Viktor. He hadn’t been able to talk to him since he finished his program. He hoped he wasn’t very mad at him. He’d tried his best on his own, but it hadn’t been enough. He’d miss him dearly, but Makkachin’s health came first. He was Viktor’s long companion, and Yuuri had no right to take him away from his dog when his life was at risk.

Yuuri sighed again. How would he react when he saw him? He had so much he wanted to tell him.

The train stopped and he looked around, trying to know where they were. According to the schedule Yuri had (begrudgingly) given him, that was the last stop before he got to the airport. Then he would take his flight to Fukuoka, and then it was a 2-hour-long trip by train until he got to Hasetsu again, where he would be waiting for him.

Looking down at the schedule again, he couldn’t help but laugh to himself. It had taken the Russian boy a great effort to give it to him. He tried to make it seem it was no big deal, that he’d made it when he went to Hasetsu to bring Viktor back to Russia and didn’t need it anymore. But Yuuri knew better than that.

It had been in the way Yuri had cheered on him (in his own way) when he was doing his free program, it was the way he had escaped from his hug when he had learnt he had barely qualified for the semis, and the way he’d come to him when he was feeling down to give him his grandfather’s special Piroshki, even remembering his birthday was soon.

They were starting to get along, and Yuuri felt thrilled. He hadn’t liked the Russian boy at first – he was brash, rude and had a foul mouth. It didn’t help that he’d shouted at him the first time they’d met, when he was at his lowest point, both professionally and emotionally. It also didn’t help that he had kicked him into the Ice Castle when they met for the second time.

But after working together after all those months, they… clicked, somehow. He’d seen the kindness hidden under all those layers of stubbornness and hurtful words, and when the boy let it shine through you couldn’t help but feel ecstatic that you saw it. He was like a rebellious little brother for him.

So lost he was on his thoughts that he didn’t notice the man sitting beside him on the train. Well, he noticed the smell of alcohol oozing from him, but decided to ignore it.

The man stretched his legs, kicking his bag, and Yuuri sent him a reproachful frown. The man looked like a foreigner, his dark hair was oily, and he was swinging a bottle precariously while he was trying to get more comfortable, ignoring completely that Yuuri was sitting beside him.

When the man spilled the liquid on him, Yuuri decided he had enough.

“Do you mind?” he said with gritted teeth, trying not to spat at the man. His mother had taught him to be polite, after all.

The man turned his head to look at him, and a dark smile formed on his face. He settled on his seat – not after kicking him again, the dick – and took a long swing of his drink. One he finished, he discarded the bottle aside, the object clinking when it fell to the floor, and the man dried the liquid trailing down his chin with his sleeve. Yuuri’s stomach lurched at the disgusting sight.

“Oh, look what we have here, a little kitten.” The man slurred with broken English. He didn’t have Russian accent either (after being around one daily, sometimes two, he could distinguish them in a mile). “What are you doing here all alone, huh? Do you want to play with papa? I could use some fun.”

Deeming it not worthy, Yuuri stood up to grab his things. He could wait for the next station at the door. Before he could step out though, the man grabbed his arm, forcing him to stop. He was directing a dark smile at him, his eyes glazed from the alcohol and something more he didn’t want to think about. He took a deep breath, trying to stay civil. He would rile him up more if he punched the guy.

“I asked you a question, kitten. Don’t you dare to leave.”

He looked down at the pathetic man, his mind running a mile per hour. Something came to his mind, and smiled condescendingly at him. He had a plan.

“Oh, but I am not alone, mister. In fact, my friend is waiting for me at the door.”

The man guffawed. “Leave your friend and stay with me, kitten. I would make use of you way better than your friend could.”

He stopped himself from shivering in disgust and kept on with his plan, his face neutral.

“Hmm… he’s not going to like it. Yuri, my friend, has a really bad temper, more so if people are annoying me. He’s called the Ice Tiger of Russia, you know? And he loves to kick things out of his way- “ _he loves to kick_ me _out of the way, that’s for sure,_ “-so maybe you would like to step aside and let me go.”

The man paled a little bit, Yuuri noted with satisfaction, but it hadn’t been enough. His grip was still strong on his wrist, and he was getting really tired of it. However, the man recovered and smirked at him. He was so drunk that it came out crooked and ugly.

“And where is he now, this friend of yours?” He raised an eyebrow daringly.

“I told you already; he’s waiting for me in the door.” He shrugged nonchalantly. “We got late tickets and couldn’t sit together.”

“And how can I believe that this _Yuri_ you talk about exists, huh? You could be messing up with me.”

Trying to supress his smirk, he shook off his hand and reached for his phone, looking at him innocently. He showed it to him, shrugging.

“I could call him to come here, if you wish. He won’t like that you are keeping me from going. I’ll put the call on speakers so you can hear him, don’t worry.”

Before the man could say another word, he unlocked his phone and went to his music folder. Thanking the gods that his phone saved the audio messages along with his music, he looked for the one he needed. Raising the volume, he muttered some Russian words Viktor had taught him and pressed play. And Yurio’s harsh voice came from the speakers.

_“Ей, дурацкий свин! Пирожки дедушки в сто раз лучше чем катсудон, ты услышал меня!?"  
_

He paused it then, muttering some more Russian and looking apologetically to the quickly paling man. He then pressed play again.

_"И не нужно думать что раз ты выиграл у меня со своим тупым Эросом в этот раз ты победишь меня и на Гранд При. Готовся жрать пыль!"_

He stopped the recording, making it look like he had hung up, and looked down at the man. The man was trembling from head to toe, looking around, clearly looking for Yuri. He could see sweat forming on his greasy forehead. It was revolting, to be honest.

“Well, if you let me go so I can calm down my friend, he won’t throw you through the window.” He paused. “Hopefully.”

The man scrambled to his seat, letting the way free for him. Yuuri merely grabbed his bag and shot him a sweet smile before going to the door, trying with all his might not to laugh out loud. Once he got to the door, the train was slowing down, and he let himself laugh at the stupidity of the situation.

He climbed down the train and grabbed his phone again, this time looking for Yuri’s contact info. Chuckling at the name – Viktor had saved his number under the name ‘Smol Kitten’ – he pressed the phone icon and brought the phone to his ear.

 _“… What do you want.”_ Yuri’s gruff words came muffled.

“Good morning to you too, Yurio!” he chirped. He heard the growl at the other side, and he couldn’t help but chuckle.

_“Fuck off. It’s 7 AM in the morning in here, asshole. You better have something really important to tell me, stupid pig.”_

“Actually, yeah. Do you remember what we planned to do if someone molested me at the trip? Well, it worked.”

 _“Wait, really?”_ he said, and surprise could be heard in his voice.

“Yeah. Your harsh voice scared a guy shitless. I told you it would work.”

 _“Huh.”_ He paused. _“Wait, you have been molested at your way to the airport? What the hell? It’s 7 fucking AM. Who thinks 7 AM is a good time to- wait, don’t answer that. I don’t want to know.”_

Yuuri shrugged, looking down at the schedule. He had to grab a taxi now, didn’t he?

“Anyway, I just called to tell you that. Go back to sleep, you must be exhausted.”

_“Shut up, you’re not my mom. Even though Viktor says otherwise. I swear you guys are disgusting sometimes.”_

He chuckled. “Love you too, Yurio.”

 _“God, shut up! And don’t call me that again, stupid Katsudon! Bye!”_ And with that he hung up.

Yuuri put away his phone, a smile on his face, and called for the taxi coming his way. He told the driver the address the best he could, almost chocking when he had to pronounce all those consonants together, and rested his head on his hand, looking outside.

That call had lifted his spirits a bit. It was almost unbelievable how in less than a year he’d made friends with not only one, but two Russian skaters. They didn’t care that he was weak sometimes (well, it annoyed Yuri, but he meant well), and supported him with all his might.

He felt so _grateful_ that they were in his life, that he almost thanked destiny to make him mess up the year before. If he hadn’t messed up, he wouldn’t have skated Viktor’s program, Viktor wouldn’t have seen it, and he wouldn’t have come to Hasetsu to train him. Then Yurio wouldn’t have followed him and kicked Yuuri out of the way.

They had taught him so much in a year, and he felt like his fears weren’t so difficult to overcome now. He wanted to give back what they’d given him, somehow. He would show them in Barcelona, he decided. He would show the world how much he’d grown these months. He’d show the world what they meant for him.

He promised.

**Author's Note:**

> So this was born after I told Leisey that I would send her an audio with me cursing in Spanish to spook away any derros annoying her on her trip.
> 
> So, if my 15 min of me messing around with google translator are correct, what Yuri said on the audio was:  
> “Hey, stupid pig. The piroshki my grandfather makes are better than pork cutlet rice, you hear me!?”  
> "And you better not believe that because you won me with your stupid eros performance you will win me at the GPF. Prepare to eat the floor!"
> 
> He sent it to Yuuri when he returned to Russia, saying it purposefully on Russian so Yuuri wouldn’t understand it – he’s a brat like that. Then Yuuri played it to Viktor and the other man was laughing for 10 minutes, something that confused Yuuri greatly. Then, when he calmed down, he messed his hair and said “Yurio’s just warming up to you, but he’s too stubborn to say it.” And then he translated what he said.  
> Yuuri decided to keep the audio on his phone.
> 
> EDIT: SadoMazoCat has been a dear and corrected the Russian parts. Everyone thank her!


End file.
